It is the first week of autumn here in Southern New England—a few dabs of color creeping into the brush and trees. There is promise in the air, promise of the brilliant foliage that blesses our land each year after the harvest. Our gardens are now nearly empty of their summer bounty, and the days are crisper with long shadows cast from a sun that has just passed over the Equator.
A small group gathers in a clearing behind the common house to celebrate the change of season and the autumn harvest—the fall equinox. A table set in the center is piled with autumn crops: garlic, small brown onions, squashes in every variety and shape, gourds. Future residents of our budding community have stacked dry goods for a local food pantry. A circle begins to take shape around the table, quiet at first, as each engages in painting small smooth rocks. Timidly, a buzz rises—catching up, introductions for those new to the neighborhood, hopeful talk of moving in. There is hope in the abundance of a harvest!
We gathered as a community of family and friends to honor the changing season from summer to autumn, to recognize and give thanks for this time of harvest from the land and from our lives, and to give offerings from our own abundance to assist in the care of others. There is singing and drumming, poetry and dancing. And sharing. Speaking aloud what each is harvesting from this summer’s scorched pandemic storm: energy, adventure, community, hope. Hail and welcome!
For the light that comes from Spirit.
We sing—send us your peace this day.